Kitty Kitty
by LokiWaterDraca
Summary: Capture-verse fic with Prowl and the Stunticons! Slash. Prowl's having a hard time dealing with his lack of logic and paper work... but the Stunts are determined to change that... after they have their way with him anyway.
1. Chapter 1

I need to update things I know, but Shadow and I realized that we have enough chapters done on this to start posting. It's in the same verse as Capture and wont be the last ^^ we have more planned and each pairing will have its own fic! So we hope you'll enjoy them all!

"Get away from me." Prowl was trying to stay calm, trying to not allow his processor to lock up… but the fact was that he was surrounded by Decepticons, five of them to be exact… the Stunticons. At the same time though he wasn't tied or chained in anyway, no, just the sheer number should have been enough to scare him into submission. But it wasn't, and the Autobot growled before he attempted his attack, failing it rather miserably.

"Catch him!" Motormaster roared, not surprised in the least by the attack. As expected from the logical Prowl, it was brilliantly executed, gorgeous to watch... and doomed to failure. Wildrider caught the Autobot, throwing him to the ground, and this time Drag Strip and Breakdown caught him and held him there. Even Dead End joined in, as excited about their new acquisition as Motormaster had ever seen the gloomy mech, sitting on Prowl's legs with a nearly unnoticeable moan. "Now... lets try this again, shall we, Autobot?"

Attempting to escape his new position was futile, leaving Prowl panting slightly and trying to wiggle into a more… comfortable position. "Frag off Decepticon," he sneered, door wings twitching as one was held onto for purchase on his prone form. "Let. Me. Go." The 2iC was on the verge of exploding, partially in anger at getting outwitted by Decepticons and partially from the fear that was starting to set in.

"Now, now... I think you mis-counted. By... Oh..." Motormaster trailed off, looking around.

"I'D say by about four," Breakdown snarled, resting all of his weight on Prowl, not concerned with the Autobot's comfort. He snarled as Prowl looked at him, backhanding the pretty face and then holding Prowl still by the simple action of putting his fingers around the Autobot's optics. ~Can I?~ his hungry question echoed through the bond which all gestalts had.

~You'd better not... not yet, if he keeps fighting maybe, but we don't want Megatron angry at us, I don't want him asking me why I didn't stop you~ Dead End whimpered, petting Prowl. "Calm down, 'bot... just relax, don't make them hurt you..."

"Oh, but I want to see his energon flow... I wonder if he'd scream... Or would he like it?" Wildrider mused aloud.

Motormaster cut of the bickering, cuffing the black and red mech. "Shuddup, all of you! Now, Autobot... we've got to explain some things to you, I think..."

Growling Prowl shrank back, snapping futilely at the hand on his face as his fear won over his logic for the first time in so long. "I'm surprised you guys learned to count but then… congratulations you can count to five and add, whoop-de-doo." He groaned in pain as more weight settled onto him, wings flexing again to shake the hands off of them. It worked, surprisingly… but then Motormaster grabbed his face again, forcing him to look up and stop his squirming.

"Now, now... let me make a few thing clear to you, AUTOBOT." The faction designation sounded like a curse as Motormaster said it, meeting Prowl's optics with his own. "This will be as hard or as easy as you make it. We're not asking for any information, we're not asking you to betray your side... We have no use for your tactical genius. We, the five of us, want one thing from you..." Motormaster grinned, dermaplating twisting in a frighteningly gentle manner, ignoring the way Breakdown continued to caress Prowl's face and optics, or the way Drag Strip and Wildrider moved their hands in a very forward and familiar manner across black and white plating. ~Go ahead, Breaky. What better way to force him to trust us? And we all know how you hate...~

"Being looked at!" Breakdown snarled, wedging his fingers under one of Prowl's optics.

Crying out in terror Prowl jerked, trying desperately to escape the grip of the Stunticons, what was Breakdown?… no! not his optics! Without those he'd be at too much of a disadvantage and would never escape… never… the tactician screamed as his vision left him, leaving nothing but darkness. "Get off, let go! Stop! get your hands away from there!"

"Oh...! Such beautiful screams! Ohh... Breakdown, you ARE the best at that...!" Wildrider exclaimed rapturously. He moaned, licking at the plating under his hands.

~Panic,~ the observation came from Dead End, too busy whimpering to really speak. ~He's screaming in panic... not pain.~

Motormaster caressed Dead End's back with his free hand, ~can always count on you to notice such things, 'End.~ "Now, now... Fight if you want to, but it won't make any difference... We want you too badly, you've tempted us so long... your beautiful chassis, your cold logic, we've LONGED for you..."

Breakdown took up the narrative, smoothly caressing Prowl's face and licking up the energon, placing the removed optics into subspace. Prowl might earn them back, after all. "Longed to know if anything could break through your facade... longed to hear you in passion, pleasure... You're quite intriguing, did you know that?"

"And now that we've won... You're all ours!" Drag Strip finished, joining Wildrider in licking at plating.

Dull throbbing permeated through the Autobot tactician's face and head as he tried and failed to block out everything… they were touching him, licking him, being GENTLE, careful… and he'd never had that before… even with the short bursts of pain from his… former optics… but how could they know that the unknown made him break? Made him unable to even think! "Please… please get away…" A moan punctuated and ended Prowl's pleas, energon running down his cheeks.

Motormaster pushed Breakdown away, claiming the right to clean Prowl's faceplates for himself. The white Stunticon didn't bother objecting, they all knew better than to argue with Motormaster, even if he had calmed down from their first sparking. And anyway, why should he bother objecting when he could start licking those beautiful door-wings from here?

Wildrider gave a cackle, stroking a seam. "He likes it, he LIKES it... Listen to him moan, such beautiful sounds... Oh, no, no, we're not going to get away..."

"We've wondered... since we were sparked, we wondered about you," Dead End said quietly. He wasn't sure Prowl could hear, but it didn't really matter. He was having something like fun anyway, rubbing Prowl's thighs and licking his way towards the codpiece.

Moaning again and again the pleasure finally sent the Autobot screaming in terror and from the sheer sensation. Without sight it just added to a sense of eroticism… Who was the one between his legs? Writhing and moving showed it to be Dead End, while Motormaster licked his face clean and made him want to scream even more.

"Such screams... 'End, he sounds like you, like you when we share you, terrified and enjoying it so fully..." Drag Strip was relishing more in long-awaited victory than anything else. Relishing in it, and mostly content to let the others reap the reward. The victory itself was enough for him, the freedom to partake or not.

~Better! He does not know what will happen... I at least know my death will never come from any of your hands...~ Dead End replied, mouth busy licking and working against the codpiece, digging his glossa deep into the seams.

~Didn't always know that,~ Breakdown shot over the link to Dead End. The white-and-blue Stunticon was busy himself, licking and biting the wings, such pretty little things... So pretty, almost like a Seeker's wings, only these belonged to THEIR mech... Their Prowl, oh, yes...

Satisfied with the careful cleaning job he had done, Motormaster shifted Wildrider a little so that he could straddle the smaller Autobot. He didn't want to get in Dead End's way, no... this was a time for all of them, his entire gestalt, working in a unity they had only recently, and still rarely, achieved. "Scream, Autobot... scream...! Feel, let us SEE, let us HEAR your emotions... don't try to hide, hide nothing from us... we want your honesty, we WANT it...!"

"J-just let go! Get off of me! Oh! Motor… stop…" Prowl's begging turned into louder screams, wings twitching against the hands rubbing against them. "Leave my… my… alone!" He moaned and writhed, wanting and needing to see… but not being able to… and it was agonizing. There was nothing about him that they could want! what they said were lies!... right? It had to have been all lies… there was no truth to them, no, no truth… he wasn't worth it. "You don't! you don't want it!"

"Are you calling your masters liars?" Motormaster asked gently, cupping Prowl's face and bending over him. Olfactory sensors almost touching, the leader of the Stunticons looked into the ruined holes where Prowl's optics had rested, speaking lowly, almost soothingly, "Oh, we want it. We want YOU..."

Breakdown began a keening as he continued to work himself against Prowl's doorwings. He lay flat against the ground, squirming against it as he wormed further under the Autobot, supporting him so that his wings could not be crushed, hiding from the optics of any others, and falling in love with the sounds, the whimpers and pleas... even better than Dead End's!

The yellow Drag Strip curled against Prowl's right side, mostly touching the Autobot, but more than once rubbing across Motormaster's leg. On Prowl's left, Wildrider did the same thing, licking and petting and not discriminating between his leader or the Autobot. Dead End, too, centered most of his attention on Prowl, squirming against his legs with low whimpers as Motormaster squeezed Prowl's legs with his own, closing them against Dead End.

There was a moment where Prowl really did loose his mind, biting down on the fingers near his mouth. He didn't Want to be listened to, he wanted to hide! "I… I didn't, I mean… Wil- leave my doors alone!" he begged, pleading and snapping at the mechs holding him down as pleasure spiked through his body again and again.

~B... Break? I really think you... m... maybe you should leave... I mean, he really... you know?~ Dead End stammered over the bond, moaning as he licked Prowl's codpiece and Motormaster's aft. The large black mech hissed at Prowl, but made no effort to remove his digits.

"Go ahead... it's okay, go ahead... Enjoy it!" Motormaster's voice rose from soft and soothing to deep and booming as he sat up, grinding against Prowl. "Enjoy it, touch us... Do what you want! Be HONEST..." He heard Breakdown's low snarl at Dead End's observation, and then the orange face came into view briefly before the Lamborghini claimed Prowl's dermaplates in a clumsy kiss. With the hand that wasn't available for Prowl to chew on, Motormaster rubbed against their captive's chestplates, letting his intentions be known, but not yet moving to act on them.

But he didn't want this! Prowl loathed that he was enjoying it, feeling so wonderful under the Stunticons while he was blind and helpless. "I don't… I… please…" He moaned into the kiss, hands clumsily coming up to scrabble at Breakdown's head and hold it there. Temporarily giving in… he was… giving in... a sob broke through with the realization and Prowl's wings started moving on their own accord, pressing his codpiece against the glossa licking it.

Breakdown's spark pulsed, hard, as their captive reached up to hold him... hold him! Keep him there, keep him kissing... ~This is perfect... he needs us, needs us and doesn't even realize it yet...~ Two more spark pulses signaled Drag Strip and Wildrider's agreement as they squirmed as close to the Autobot as possible. The yellow Stunticon was moaning wantonly and giggling, he really was insane for all the gestalt-bond kept him stable and functional. Drag Strip was quieter in his pleasure, and freer in his touches, already worming down towards Dead End. When Motormaster took their prisoner, HE would take their red and black brother.

Whimpering and mewling, Dead End blindly reached over Motormaster and Prowl's legs to run a hand against Drag Strip, pressing his face closer to the heated metal. "Do that... do that again, please do that again... Please, please, let me know you're liking it..."

Motormaster gave a roar of pleasure as Prowl moved under him, as his gestalt's spark pulses hit him. He felt almost dizzy, the power of seeing the gorgeous Autobot held for him, of feeling the desire, of watching the facade fall... he didn't move Breakdown away from the kiss, no, Prowl was acting on his desire, and such should be rewarded. The gestalt-leader did, however, begin to open the tactician's clasps. Slowly, though, he wanted to savor this...

Oh no… no, no, NO… Primus no! Prowl bit back his scream of terror at his clasps being opened, arching and bucking as he obeyed what ever he was told to do. He even deepened the kiss as much as he could, using it to mask his terror and how much he was hating it. They didn't know, didn't know that the last time he'd allowed his chest plating to be opened was… was… he couldn't even remember other then knowing Ratchet had knocked him out for repairs and examinations when he needed them. Slag, he wasn't even at his full peak, having abused his systems quite badly. At least Motormaster was being careful though, was going at it slow for the Stunticon's own enjoyment. They were all closing in on him and each other, coming closer and rubbing, so much so that the Autobot felt like he was at the bottom of what humans called a puppy pile!

The moment Prowl was opened enough, Motormaster reached in, rubbing and touching him gently, he didn't want to hurt their captive... wanted him to know he could trust them. He wasn't blind to Prowl's fear... it was simply unimportant at the moment, he was enjoying the experience, after all. They wanted his pleasure... his obedience, of course, he would have to obey them, at least obey Motormaster, just like any of the gestalt. Not that he was... The black mech shoved that idea aside, opening his own chestplates but not bending down... Instead, he grabbed one of Prowl's hands away from Breakdown's head, grabbed the hand and placed it against his own internals, crying out at the feel.

Drag Strip abandoned Prowl's form, kneeling and taking Dead End's shoulders, forcing the Porsche away from the Autobot's codpiece and painfully torquing him around to half-recline against the legs which surrounded him. Dead End whimpered and arched up, chestplates already moving. There was nothing to be gained by fighting his gestalt-brother, after all, and he wanted the pleasure of a merge before the bond forced them all into overload.

Cackling, Wildrider slithered over Prowl's doorwings, sparing a momentary thought over how it might feel to the Autobot, but not really caring. No, his care was focused on ripping Breakdown away from Prowl's face, forcing the gorgeous white chassis to face... Breakdown had better make himself ready! Because Wildrider didn't really care if Breakdown was ready or not...

The hotness against his hand echoed the hotness the Autobot tactician could feel in his chest, spark burning in a newfound need. But where had the other Stunticons gone? Why weren't they… oh. He could feel them near him, could hear the separate moans and cries, Breakdown, the one who had taken his optics, was especially loud… rubbing against him… Prowl clenched his hand around a spot in Motormaster's internals as pleasure shot through his spark from the Stunticon, close to begging for the merge, even though he was still scared.

The black leader hissed as pleasure and pain both roused from Prowl's involuntary squeeze. Menasor was very close to waking, and Motormaster could feel Drag Strip forcing himself on Dead End, feel Dead End's always-odd despairing pleasure. Wildrider and Breakdown were practically tearing at each other, hissing and snapping and that slagging cackling of the insane yellow mech, and Motormaster could feel their enjoyment as well, feel their plates part and sparks brush together. And when Motormaster bent to claim Prowl, it was surprisingly careful. Merging with a gestalt which was itself on the edge of merging could easily overwhelm the Autobot, oh, they would do it, but only when they knew he could take it... Until then, they would have to carefully isolate him, not let the full wild and disparate emotions tear through him.

So gentle, so careful, so NICE, wonderful! As a tactician Prowl was normally able to find something wrong… but for once he wasn't able to, wasn't able to figure out what he didn't want. They had to have been holding back, keeping him safe… "Motor… please Motormaster!" Overload was impending as Prowl yanked his hand from the Stunticon's chest, foot moving to rub against Drag Strip and Dead End. At the same time his hand reached out to Wildrider and Breakdown, needing the touch with a startling desperation.

"Menasor," the gestalt corrected from Motormaster's mouth, the overmind woken from the unexpected touches. "We are Menasor now." Such beautiful heat, pleasure, so nice to have a sixth... even if it was another, and not a part of him, of them. Still, Menasor made... an offer, of sorts, letting Prowl explore a little through the merge while his components reached out to return the touches the Autobot so clearly needed. Overload would come soon, and they would be careful there, as well... they wanted him to WANT to stay, to stay from his choice...! There was no other way he would even consider... no, don't think about that. "Scream our name...!"

To be complete… never really alone… it was so much of what Prowl wanted that he hesitantly latched on the tiniest bit. "Men...asor?" he mewled, not quite obeying the order yet, trying to prolong the feeling of safety while wondering just how he'd went from terrified of the Stunticons to needing them to feel safe… oh yeah, they stole his optics. The mech had forgotten, too interested in the pleasure he was being given, it was coming faster too, more and more… and making his wings twitch again. "Menasor!" Hands scrambling against armor Prowl screamed as he overloaded, the stimulation of his wings hitting some bump or patch in the floor.

Yes, Menasor decided, agreeing with his Breakdown component, this Autobot really did need them. The overload rocked through him, five voices crying out in pleasure before the overload began to recede, the gestalt-merge going with it. Sliding slightly off Prowl, resting his weight carefully on an elbow and NOT carelessly placing it against a door, Motormaster looked at the Autobot in a light daze. That had been... "Good..."

"Oh, very..." Dead End agreed, still laying under Drag Strip, ignoring the uncomfortable position. His other three brothers agreed, the entire gestalt still foggy and sorting out what had happened in the mergings. They weren't yet so functional that it didn't take a toll on them.

"Autobot..." Motormaster murmured, brushing his hand against Prowl's faceplates. "Mm... coherent yet?" They'd have to fix him up later, damage from the final battle mostly... Motormaster was proud of his team, they had truly done almost no damage to their captive in the interface.

"Coherent? I'm surprised you even know what that means." Prowl's comeback was automatic, fear and need dissipating with the overload's after glow as he tiredly when limp. If any of the stunticons thought he was going to be broken already they were dead wrong! Everything was dark, pitch black and awful, but as long as he could feel some one… he was just fine with it. Logic dictated that Motormaster wouldn't hurt him too badly if the con still wanted him as a toy… and even if they had wanted to harm him worse, it wouldn't have mattered, Prowl was too tired to care.

Motormaster chuckled, unsurprised by Prowl's temper. Still, the Autobot was lucky they had felt his hidden need, or he just might have had to take exception to that. "Oh, didn't you notice? We all have surprises about us..." Well, Prowl seemed to be coherent enough... which was more than Motormaster could say about his own team! "I have a question for you... First though, you should know... your position isn't far off from any of the other mechs around you..." By way of agreement, Breakdown stroked one of Prowl's arms. "So, the question is... what do you want to be called?"

What? Was that supposed to make him feel better? Prowl scowled but pressed against Breakdown's touch all the same before the rest of what Motormaster was saying caught up. "Want to be called? What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up but then falling back when a wave of dizziness hit him.

Breakdown and Wildrider both reacted to the knowledge that was bouncing around the gestalt-link, as well as Motormaster's comment, treating Prowl very much like he was already one of them and helping to support him in sitting up again. Dead End and Drag Strip finally moved, crawling to the outside of Prowl's legs and letting Motormaster settle back a little. "I meant what I said. What do you want to be called? What do you want your designation to be?"

"Uh… Prowl? I am not one of you… slagging Decepticons! I don't just change my name on a whim!" Snarling curses that would have made even Ratchet embarrassed Prowl sunk in on himself, thankful for the help in sitting up… but sure as slag not showing it. He knew they could see through his façade and relied on that to not feel guilty… then again, why should HE feel guilty? HE was the one who had his optics torn out! HE was… a slagging Autobot with fragging Autobot guilt… "Besides WHY would I want to change my designation? I'm not changing sides and unlike you lot I do have my honor and decency!"

Motormaster simply sat there, smiling, and letting the curses wash over him. Some of them were quite inventive, and he stored them away for future use. But he'd long ago learned, from his own gestalt, that when a mech was pinned beneath him and reduced to spitting curses, he was only a step away from giving up. "Now, now... don't be angry..."

It was Dead End who continued, hands tracing the wounds and trying to figure out what he could repair, and what would need to wait. "This is a chance... You're not the only one captured, you know, even your Prime... So this is a chance for a new life, you see? Either way, Motormaster has decreed... you will be treated as much like our brothers as possible..." His voice wavered, most noticeably on the gestalt-leader's name, but the Porsche kept talking. "It's not a matter of changing sides... Your Autobot side no longer exists."

"So if you ever thought about ever being someone else..." Wildrider gleefully interjected. "Now's the time."

"I have never thought about being some one else and I never will. Not only that but… go smelt yourself! I am an Autobot and I will stay a fragging Autobot until the day I die and turn into a pile of rusted scrap!" The vehemence in Prowl's words and voice were downplayed by the way he made a shocked sound of fear and… want? He was floored that Motormaster wanted them to treat him as a… brother? And he kind of wanted it… but he'd really be slagged before he'd ever admit it!

Soft sounds of disappointment came from all five Stunticons. In the spirit of treating him like a brother, Drag Strip used his voice to make his observation, not the bond, "He is so much like you, 'End... Only not as depressive. I would have liked to hear him choose his own designation..."

"I like how loyal he is... I wish there was room for us in there as well..." Wildrider agreed, licking Prowl's neck... just because he could. Breakdown made a hum of agreement and dared to run a hand against a door-wing again... they were so intriguing!

"Shuddup!" Motormaster growled, cuffing, ironically, Dead End, who whimpered and then blasted the hurt through the gestalt-bond to the ones he felt SHOULD have suffered it. Motormaster didn't care any more, letting his underlings work it out for themselves, still focused on Prowl. "One more chance... are you sure? Tell me... let me hear, 'My designation is Prowl.' Say that, and it will be so..."

"I'll have you know I chose my designation in the first place!" Prowl snarled, wing moving against Breakdown's hand on impulse. It felt… comforting, made him wonder why in Primus name where they so… NICE? He perked at the sound of some one getting a smack and Motormaster's reprimand. "Why are you punishing them for something so simple? It's much better to have respect through care instead of pain and fear…" Well… he couldn't help it, logic dictated his thoughts! "My designation is Prowl."

Motormaster bent down again, licking the trails of energon which had re-formed from Prowl's empty optic-holes. "That's what they know, what they respond to... Prowl..." Motormaster's deep voice caressed the designation. "Believe me... we know care is better than fear... we have been working towards it..."

"He hit Dead End because he couldn't hear himself think..." Breakdown answered Prowl's question, rubbing the wing again. Hey, Prowl wasn't objecting anymore!

The red and black Porsche gave a low, resentful murmur, before speaking louder. "I suppose he should be taken to his room and told the rules? If I do it, I could take care of his large injuries. He'll still have to visit the medics, but we could at least wait until he's settled in."

"Number one… I am right fragging here, talk to me not above me. Number two… I'm surprised you even think Motormaster, who knew you had it in you." Sarcasm was becoming second nature, and so was not flinching at the touches that were so freely being given. The feeling of a glossa running down his cheek cleaning up the last of his spilled energon though… that made him pull back slightly, glaring.

"I hope you have some clue as to what in the pit your doing, without sight I will undoubtedly harm myself and there's a ninety-nine point twenty six percent chance that you will have to drag me to… what ever awful place you call a med bay as well as a hundred percent chance that your… RULES will, for the most part, not be followed… wait you actually know what rules are? Yet another thing that surprises me…"

"Awww... Kitty doesn't like us talking about him... So much like Breakdown, isn't he, Drag Strip?" Unsurprisingly, Wildrider got a blow from the white mech at that comment, but he only laughed. "See, Prowl? We're treatin' ya just like anyone else..."

Motormaster moved off of Prowl and let Dead End take his place, though the Porsche was trying to help Prowl stand. "Come on... just let them fight, Motormaster will stop them eventually." This was about the point that Wildrider tackled Breakdown, and Dead End just cycled his vents. "Here, hold my hand, I won't let you knock into anything."

Prowl made a face, stumbling over his own two feet despite the help. "Sure, sure you won't, that's what Jazz said the time he got me blitzed on high grade after a battle… and I ended up walking into two walls and then falling down a flight of stairs because he was blitzed too!" All the same Dead End didn't let him fall or run into anything as said and the Autobot was content to let him lead… he'd be some what submissive for now but when he got his vision back and wasn't so helpless… that was a different story.

"Well... I'm... I mean, I'm not Jazz. Now here... this is your room. From the door, there's a berth in the corner, far right. Some shelves at the foot of the berth on the wall. And a desk and chair on the left wall. I'm going to help you to the berth, and then I'll look at your wounds." Dead End tried to explain things as well as he could. "Ah... the rules are pretty simple. No-one will force themselves on you in your room. That's the first rule, no one forces ANYONE in their own room. You could... for example, you could offer to me... or... or even force me, since I'm in your room... but I can't force you. You see? Anyone can enter, but... but that's different. Um... anything goes in our public area, though. And... and there's no locks on our doors. The only lock is the one in the main room, to the rest of the base. So... so it's pretty easy, you see?"

That… made WAY too much sense… especially for Decepticons, and at the same time Prowl felt ill from even thinking about causing anyone harm or forcing himself on them. At least he had someplace safe… but then he felt that he didn't need a safe place anymore, everything was just too relaxed and he knew they had lost. Prowl had been there when Optimus had been defeated and had seen his friends and teammates captured, they had no hope for winning a lost and desolate war. "But there is a loop-hole right? They could take you out of your room and then have their way?" Knowing was half the battle, the war was over but Prowl was sure as slag not letting his skills weaken.

Dead End shook his head slowly. "No... Drag Strip thought that. Tried that on Wildrider... Motormaster doesn't like his rules being challenged, HE follows them, so we all have to. Drag Strip was a real mess after that... But that was because Drag Strip tried forcing Wild' out... Break' was smarter, just kinda..." Dead End gave a demonstration, slinging an arm around Prowl and leading him a few steps, though the Stunticon was leading the Autobot to the berth, not the door. "By the time Wild' realized what happened... but he was a pretty good sport about it. Here, lay down for me? I need to check these..."

"Hmmm… smart." Doing as asked Prowl felt around the berth, painting a mental picture of his new residence before thinking about it… "What am I to do now? You all may be able to just sit around and relax for long periods of time but I… I haven't ever… I think I was made to take a break once… and only once! It will not happen again!" And it really wouldn't, no… not if he had anything to say about it.

It was easy for the Porsche to wait as Prowl explored a little. "I don't have enough to numb you all the way... I can't, Wild's glitched enough that he manages to get high off it, so I can't carry enough to let him..." Providing what numbing he could, Dead End waited a moment to let it take effect, and then began working on the very worst of Prowl's injuries. "Well, you can explore, of course. In the spirit of things, if anyone, well, we'll let you know who we are... and it's not like that's all we do! And when you have your optics back... um... I don't know, I suppose you'll have to ask Motormaster... Maybe just... adjust, for now?"

"So exploring and being molested are my only options… yay me," the Autobot said sarcastically, staying stock still as his injuries where fixed with minimal pain. He was going to die of boredom… but at least Dead End was being tolerable, no MORE then tolerable, he was being nice. "Adjustment will be easy, I have had to do it all my life."

"That's not all we do!" Dead End protested. "We talk, and most of us have all sorts of personal projects... well, your optics... Um, Breakdown... really can't stand anyone looking at him... Only us, he used..." Denta caught at dermaplating while Dead End tried to think how to put this... It was hard, he'd never been told to treat ANYONE like he would treat his brothers, and this mech didn't even know them! And if he said the wrong thing... but he had to be honest, they were honest with each other... okay, Menasor made it impossible not to be honest, but... "He used to not let ANY of us look at him. He took my optics more than once... It's changed though! We're trying to work together now... But I don't know if we're getting anywhere... But I guess we have to be, Menasor woke so much easier this time! But maybe that was only because you were..."

Snorting slightly Prowl looked away, even though it made no difference. "He has so many problems… and yet none of you bothered to help? Or am I thinking wrong?" Well at least he wasn't the only one who had lost his sight to the stunticon… "And I did nothing! There is no reason to think I had anything to do with… Menasor's waking."

"We all had problems," Dead End said quietly. "We didn't think to help until Megatron ordered us to get Menasor working. And you were merged, you affected the waking." Well, the repairs were done... biting at his derma again, Dead End sat on the very edge of the berth, petting Prowl gently. "You... should probably rest, you had a hard day. I'll stay if you want, you don't even know our quarters, and I know what it's like to be blind in them." He expected Prowl to push him off, order him to leave...

"If you want to stay you can… I don't care." Prowl covered up his fear at being alone with a nonchalant shrug, uncaring voice only slightly wavering at the end. Dead End was right… he didn't know his way around at all! How was he supposed to get around without hurting himself? Not only that but… the petting was soothing, combining with the small dosage of pain relievers and after-battle and subsequent interface fatigue to make him drowsy. Even better… the Decepticon was being so nice and Prowl had really expected to be thrown in some dungeon or killed when he was captured… "If you really want to stay you can… whatever you choose…"

"You mean it?" Dead End asked, weakly hopeful. It didn't need confirmation, though, simply looking at Prowl was enough for that. The Autobot was curled slightly, very slightly, with an empty neediness... Something about the posture struck Dead End as familiar, but he was tired, and his gestalt-mates were seeking their own recharge... The berth was large enough for two, was large enough for MOTORMASTER and another, so of course there was plenty of room for the Porsche to crawl fully on the berth and lay himself down beside Prowl. "Thank-you, Prowl. I don't always like recharging alone." The rooms hadn't always been safe-zones.

"Humpth. Don't thank me, it was your own choice." Even as he spoke Prowl turned and shifted towards the Decepticon, not even thinking about it as a hand came to rest on Dead End's hip. It was natural to do so and he hadn't had a berth mate since he'd grown out of needing Jazz or Ratchet there to keep away the visions… "You push me off or lay on one of my doors and I'll make you wish you hadn't…" the Autobot mumbled, not waiting for an answer before he went into recharge.

Door-wings were something new, and it took Dead End a few moments to figure out how to lay, how to... well, yes, cuddle Prowl without fouling the doors. He didn't bother answering Prowl... What had Wildrider called him... Kitty? Heh... Either way, it wasn't worth answering him... not when he was already recharging, and anything Dead End would say would just make them MORE tense, make it harder to... Before Dead End could finish the thought, he was offline.


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry all, everythings been busy and it's my fault Shadow and I haven't gotten anything more up. He actually just reminded me that we have a couple of chapters ready to go, and everything. Hopefully as soon as the school year ends a little more time can go to feeding our hellish muses chocolate and caffiene.

* * *

Wildrider and Drag Strip were plotting... Dead End didn't like it, out here in the hall-way with Prowl. This was the second time he'd coaxed Prowl from the safety of the Autobot's room, and currently, well... Dead End didn't think they would make it to Prowl's room... or even to his own. And that was something which had never fully been decided... Would Dead End even be able to extend his room's protection to Prowl, as a guest? The Porsche doubted it, but then, he doubted everything. And... he couldn't really blame his brothers...

~He's been here two days, and we've only tasted him once,~ Drag Strip was saying. A snarl came down the bond from Motormaster, and the racecar's next words were audible, though not very. "I'm just saying, what's the point of having an Autobot if we're just letting him HIDE all the time...?"

"Autobot, Autobot, of course you want Kitty... I just want my brother, 'End, I've MISSED you. You'd finally stopped hiding, and you know how much you enjoyed it when you did, and now you're helping Kitty-cat keep away from us..." Despite Wildrider's seeming glee, there was hurt there too. He felt better, more stable, when all his brothers were around... it was better when they were close, and best when they were all in a pile, with Menasor just barely tying them... oh, that was perfect.

Even though he was partially hidden behind Dead End the autobot tactician spoke up at being called kitten. "I am not a fragging kitten you idiotic decepticon!" If he was called kitten one more time… Snarling at the area where he thought the voices were coming from Prowl tightened the grip he had on Dead End's arm, having been led by the red and black mech. 'End was the only one he felt remotely safe with at that point, waking up to being cuddled by him… it had just ruined any fear for some odd reason. "Why the slag do you call me that any way? I am NOT in any way, shape, or form a feline!"

Drag Strip grinned at Prowl's heated defensiveness and attempted glare. "A little more to the right, you're glaring at Wild's shoulder right now. And he thinks you look like a kitten... Unmaker knows why, he IS insane, you know."

"Shh, shh, it's not worth it, Prowl... We just can't shorten your name, and Wild' thought you needed nickname..." He didn't FEEL like interfacing with Wildrider right now, he'd rather Breakdown it if came to it... at least the Lamborghini was predictable! Dead End tried to keep Prowl moving, but Drag Strip foiled that easily, coming up and prying one of the Autobot's hands from the red armor.

Prowl actually lived up to the nick name he'd been given, hissing and growling before he attacked. The mech under him hadn't expected it and was easily pinned down with a small amount of fumbling. "Don't you DARE hurt him!" He didn't know who he'd pinned but the fact was that he wanted to protect Dead End… and kill that stupid fragging nickname. "I am not your kitten! I am not your kitty-cat! and I sure as slag wont let yo–" Prowl growled again as he was cut off by rough hands and being forced to stand again, wings twitching as he tried to fight back again.

With his own growl, Drag Strip pulled Prowl off him, turning him around to face towards Wildrider. "Wrong. Mech. Kitty. If you want to help 'End, go after Wild'... you're facing right towards him and he hasn't reached 'End yet. Go on then, go for it... Maybe he'll change his mind and take you instead... And 'End would prefer me, wouldn't you, 'End?"

Fear... was very near to an aphrodisiac to Dead End after knowing it for so long. And he really had no idea how to handle anyone defending him... and Prowl had no reason, wasn't a brother, wasn't going to ask for anything from him later... "P... prowl, just... Let 'Strip... I can handle Wild', he's just unpredictable. I... it's okay."

"Aah... so you HAVE missed me, 'End... so good to know, so good... Why would I be unpredictable, the three of you are there, that's four of..." Wildrider cut off suddenly with a confused look on his face.

"Slagging little!..." At Dead End's words something clicked in Prowl, a thought and plan forming… They wanted him to act like they did right? He wouldn't force anyone… but primus be damned if they thought he wouldn't fight back! turning to Drag Strip the autobot snarled and attacked him again… but this time it was different, this time his hands roamed across the armor they could reach and his mouth latched itself to Drag Strip's neck. Prowl trusted Dead End to know what he was doing… and if not he was listening and would jump up if needed to help!

Drag Strip gave a cry and fell back against the wall, already moaning from the completely unexpected touches. There was NOTHING to aid him in anticipating Prowl's actions, he couldn't even feel hints as to his emotional state... There were only the hands, the mouth, oh... "Up, Kitten, up... the wheels on my shoulders...!" It was a victory of sorts, the hot Autobot doing what he wished with him...

For a moment, Dead End was surprised by Prowl's actions, his apparent reversal... The Autobot could take care of himself, that was one of the reasons the gestalt had wanted him so badly. And so, shaking, he turned his processor away from Prowl, and walked into Wildrider's arms. The Ferrari was, after all, acting far more stable, just like he had pointed out, and Dead End, in his own way, longed for the touch of one of his true brothers.

"Oh? These?" Prowl felt his way up, grasping a wheel in hand and then ripping down in one smooth motion. He expected to be pushed away, pushed down and punished… but he didn't expect the gasping moan that he got instead, hands grabbing him and pulling him even closer. "Fragger!" The tactician snarled, going back to causing pleasure… right before he stopped and wrenched away, hitting the wall with a startling jarring feeling. His wings screamed in protest and flattened but where ignored in favor of his audios as he listened for Dead End.

"Mm, Wild'... you're so calm, why are you so calm... I don't like when you, ooh..." Dead End was whimpering, mostly meaningless sounds, already forced against a wall by his brother.

"Shut UP, 'End...! Just shut up and enjoy, you know you do...!" Wildrider snarled, backhanding the Porsche. A moment later he was mumbling incoherent apologies, petting the red armor and licking the faceplates he'd struck. "I told you, I told you, there's so many of us around, I almost feel like I can think again..."

Optics flickering, Drag Strip leaned against the wall, energon trickling from the wheel Prowl had yanked. Unexpected, that... "Kitty...? Prowl... Why...?" Why had he pulled away... and he looked so pretty against the wall, door-wings out... as enticing as Breakdown had ever made Dead End look!

"You need to ask… I refuse to truly force myself on you…" In reality he was looking for his boundaries, testing the inner fences that kept him trapped and near helpless… Prowl growled when he heard Dead End being hit, about to stomp over and attack who ever was hurting the only one he trusted at that point. "Slagging pit thinking bastard…"

"HA! Ha, you're a funny one, Kitty! Here I was, all set to force YOU, and you won't return the favor? Of course, we have an advantage, don't we..." Drag Strip's mirth passed as quickly as it had come, and he thought for a moment, voluntarily seeking out Wildrider and Dead End's presences in the gestalt. Exactly like he thought, they both wanted a good 'facing, even Dead End, though he acted like he didn't. They were just so used to KNOWING that they forgot to consciously look... "Well, if that's what you need to hear, Prowl... I want you, and if asking means you'll come over here and 'face me willingly... Come here, Prowl... Take me. Please."

Slowly entwining about each other, Dead End and Wildrider paused their handling at Drag Strip's brush against their bond, and then turned to watch. Drag Strip was obsessed with victory, winning at any cost, and it was rare to hear the yellow mech beg. He said it made him sound like a looser. And yet he had, in a manner, and now they wanted to see what Prowl would do.

"I'm not Kitty!" Prowl snarled, stepping forward to reach out and try to rip into a wheel again, having heard a soft moan from Dead End as a cue that he was fine… "WHY must you call me that ridiculous name? I am nothing like a feline!" Even as he hissed and spit… and in all actuality lived up to the nick name the autobot was ripping into Drag Strip with a new vigor. The decepticon wanted to be taken? Then he'd start it… but was sure that Drag Strip would take control.

Drag Strip dropped, his legs refusing to hold him as the Autobot pleasured him with pain. Wildrider moaned at the sight, and then looked at Dead End with a dangerous grin, one that made the Porsche whimper and arch into him. As his brothers began to seek their pleasure, it stormed into the yellow mech, the bond already opened a little wider from his earlier check on their feelings, and by proximity. "Because of your reaction... it brings your spirit up, makes you angry and breaks that facade you HIDE behind...!" Drag Strip ran his hand up Prowl's back, between the beautiful door-wings, nipping at the black and white armor.

Now THAT made him mad! "I have never hidden behind a façade!" Prowl hissed, finding it almost scary how he was being so… angry. He'd never had such a temper before, no that wasn't true… he'd never let his temper OUT before and now that he was… it was making his spark jump in its casing non-stop. "Slagging decepticons… I'll show you hiding!" Fingers hooking around a wheel Prowl ripped it off with one swift motion, tearing through armor with ease.

"Yes you have," Dead End objected, his voice quiet but certain. Wildrider took exception, Dead End should be focusing on HIM, not the Autobot kitten... He kissed the red and black mech forcefully, driving his digits deep into seams until Dead End cried out and stroked his seams. Satisfied that he had the Porsche's attention again, Wildrider went back to watching Drag Strip scream under the kitten.

It was a kind of victory, wasn't it? Watching the logical Autobot loose all restraint? Drag Strip was, to his own surprise, loosing interest in whether he was winning or not... "Like that, Prowl! Show me hiding, yes! Tear into me, make me feel good!" He didn't care, he wanted to feel those wings under his hands... and so Drag Strip did just that, running a hand up one of the gorgeous wings.

"I have not!" Prowls second yell was half a whimper, from the hand on his wing and also the fact that he knew they were right… but he'd been hiding for so long… so long that he'd forgotten, forgotten that his logic was a escape and was a barrier that wouldn't be brought down easy! "Slag you!" With another curse the autobot tactician moved, movements slowing as his rage abated. Causing pain wasn't as fun for him as he was trying to act, in fact he normally only did it when seriously stressed or begged… and the fact that he was, was enough to show his mental stability.

"Slag me... Slag me, make me feel... Kitty!" Drag Strip purred, hissing the nickname. Prowl wanted to go slower, just fine, right now the yellow mech didn't really care. As long as Prowl was acting on desire, not logic... as long as the Autobot kept making him FEEL good... So good... "Kiss me?"

"Wild'... Wild', PLEASE... oh, touch me, touch me please... Prowl, under his left... left thigh... wires, soldered... Scream, make him... WILDRIDER!" Dead End howled the last word, arching up as Wildrider, in distinct opposition to his wishes, began to barely ghost his hands over the Porsche.

Wires, soldered… Prowl's hand yanked itself down of its own accord and gouged the mentioned spot with a cruelty that… was REALLY unlike the autobot's normal self. There was just too much need in the voice that was giving the begged order so nicely. Energon dripped from his fingers as Prowl moved yet again, exploring in a needful frenzy as well as the growing lust in his spark. "I'm not a Kitten! I'm not!"

Red fingers dug at black chestplates, Wildrider snapping at his brother. "Open up, 'End... I'm not Break', I don't want to make you... Open..." He purred as the plates began moving, slowly, very slowly. Dead End associated vulnerability with agony, from too many times being Breakdown's favorite... or worse, Motormaster's. They were, in their owe way, working to overcome that, and so Wildrider soothed as Dead End opened, still snapping and biting neck cabling, but rubbing the plating gently.

"More like... a pit-cat... PROWL...! Unicron smelt you, KISS m..." Drag Strip's pleading died into a gasp as he arched up, seeking more contact with the Autobot as his spark began pulsing hungrily. He could hear Dead End opening... he could FEEL it, by the Unmaker, the bond had never been this open without rousing Menasor before... and the overmind was showing no signs whatsoever of waking.

Pit-cat? he could almost live with that… the autobot scrambled against Drag Strip to kiss him, moaning and growling from his spark pulsing in agreement with Drag Strip's. The kiss they shared was violent and rushed, bodies and glossas clashing in a battle for dominance. It was still a surprise to Prowl when he won, hands roaming again before he ripped off the other wheel that seemed to be taunting him with its feel against his fingers.

"Prowl... Unmaker, PROWL..." It was such a rush, the Autobot tearing into him, ripping, hands moving intimately over his body, touching him as freely as any of his brothers had a right to. ~He has to earn his optics back... He has to see us in the need he creates!~ Using the bond for that was completely involuntary, it was simply an observation Drag Strip needed to share as his hands moved against Prowl as freely as the tactician's moved on him. "Are you going to take me or not!"

Wildrider delved gently into Dead End, seeking his pleasured screams. They would sound so GOOD, mixing with Drag Strip's cries, with the kitty, the pit-cat's growls and hisses. Dead End always gave his screams so eagerly, he was so hungry for pleasure... "I'll take you... when Kitty takes 'Strip. Do you think they'll scream? We will, I know, you always feel so good... so EAGER, 'End..."

Snapping down at Drag Stirp's neck Prowl keened, hesitating before he reached up to pull the decepticons chest plates apart. He hadn't been in charge in… well it seemed like ever! "I'm not a Kitty…" The autobot moaned weakly, pulling from Drag Strip to unlatch his own plates. "And I'll make you scream like they want!"

"Look at it, LOOK at it, 'End... Dead End, look, they are gorgeous..." Wildrider moaned, mimicking Prowl and unlatching himself.

Dead End was in no position to look. He was far too busy bucking and writhing in pleasure, begging brokenly. "Wild'... Wild', please, they are, they're beautiful, Wild' please, I need you..." The black mech was unmoved, and so Dead End turned to the one mech who might change his brother's processor. "PROWL... mercy, PLEASE...! Take him, take him so Wild' will... PROWL...!"

Drag Strip moaned, arching up, trying to tempt the blind mech with the sight. One hand reached for the Autobot's spark, but it stopped short. He wasn't in charge this time. "Beautiful... as pretty as any fiery feline from the pits... Oh, lovely... please! Make us scream..."

The begging was all it took before Prowl was slamming himself down, spark pressing into the decepticon's as he hissed and shrieked. He wasn't what they said he was… most certainly not beautiful or pretty! "Drag… Drag Strip! Dead End… Wildrider…" Was he whimpering or was that Drag Strip? It must have been him… and Prowl was soon struggling to hold back the overload that was threatening to make him lose what little control he had left.

The three gestalt-mates screamed pleasure as four sparks connected in two pairs. Pleasure zinged over them, and it became absolutely impossible to tell by voice alone who was begging whom for what. Drag Strip and Dead End were the most vocal, both of them screaming and begging Wildrider and Prowl for completion. Wildrider himself was praising Prowl, though still calling him Kitty, and complimenting Dead End for his eager acquiescence. And Drag Strip quite suddenly couldn't take any more, it was too sweet having the gorgeous Autobot above him, pressing hungrily into him, and he overloaded with a painful flair.

Prowls limbs failed on him as he followed the decepticons into overload, too many sensations yet again flashing through his systems. Three different sets of feelings had flashed through the connection instead of one and Prowl's processor couldn't handle it. "Dra' Stri'… Wil'… Dead… unmmm…" And apparently he couldn't talk, too much was hitting his processor… including the fact that not only had he just interfaced with Drag Strip willingly he'd TAKEN CHARGE of it. The plan he'd thought he had was gone, disintegrated into nothingness and a mere ghost of its former self.

Wildrider kissed Dead End one last time before pulling away and closing their chest-plates. "Don't be such a stranger any more, Kitty... We miss you, you know." Reaching over and stroking Prowl, the black and red mech stood, walking away.

"One word of advice, though..." Drag Strip murmured, not at all ready to dislodge Prowl. "You could try that stunt on Break', maybe, but don't you EVER try that on Motormaster."

Dead End, snuggling up beside the two mechs, gave a violent shudder at the thought. "No, no... Don't ever do that, Prowl... never, never..." His strokes were more to comfort himself than anything, and Drag Strip tiredly reached out and caressed his red brother soothingly.

"I'm no' stupid…" Prowl growled but then pulled away slightly, "I'm not a stranger either! I'm, Prowl, PROWL and I just like being in my room!" Maybe that would get them to use his real name and not some weird one… he wasn't a kitty! At least that what he tried to tell himself, starting to get used to being called by that horrible name… and it didn't help that his panic was returning full force.

Automatically tightening his hold, Drag Strip tried to keep Prowl where he was. He wanted to cuddle more, and if Prowl left, Dead End would go with him! "But we MISS you, miss seeing you, want you around to talk to... We want to get to know you, Kitty! And I dare say, even if it is safe, Dead End's the only one you'll allowed in your room, isn't he?"

Dead End purred, or something like it, taking advantage of Drag Strip's presence... he hadn't realized how badly he was coming to miss his brothers. It was something new, something he was sure wouldn't have happened if Motormaster hadn't changed.

"Why would you want to talk to me?" Prowl blurted, whimpering into the cuddle as he twisted and moved. He was panicking more, hands clasping themselves on whatever armor was in reach. "There's nothing to get to know about me… trust me I should KNOW." Having to lie kept away the fear for the moment as the autobot wanted to lie about that particular fact… and anything else that dealt with his hidden past.

~Fear.~ The word resounded through the bond, and Breakdown was the one who answered it. ~I'll answer it. 'End, you'll know when he's ready...~ Dead End whimpered a little at the tone his white brother used, but he was right. He was likely the one who would know best...

"Okay... your past, you'd know if anything happened in it." Drag Strip didn't really understand the 'conversation' his two mates had shared, but it was okay, he didn't need to. "We just... my brothers, we all know each other... And you're... well, but it's okay. Relax, Kitty... Pit-cat." The yellow mech stretched, petting Prowl much the same way he had stroked Dead End earlier.

"I'm not…" With a sigh Prowl gave up his protests temporarily, he was relaxing… his fear not quite gone but at least fading to a point at the same time he shivered. "So you know each other… you should, it'd be stupid not to." Jealousy seeped through the autobot's words and he cringed when he heard it. Why couldn't it have been one of the others holding him? One of his trusted team members? But then… he WAS quite comfortable, growing used to everything far quicker then he should have.

"Want to know you," Dead End murmured, kissing Prowl. "And we don't know each other because it would be stupid not to... We're gestalt. You know what that is? You've even met Menasor..." It was just babbling talk, something to say... something to start getting the Autobot used to the half-formed idea that was bouncing through the link.

Snorting Prowl hid his annoyance and depression with sarcasm… again. "Duh?" It was a light tease that time as he wrapped an arm around Dead Ends waist, having grown used to the stunticon cuddling in recharge. "And you don't want to know me, it makes no sense to even want to." It really didn't… the tactician was mean, rude, snarking and snapping at everything even as they were so… NICE to him…

Drag Strip was quite content to stay where he was and pet the two mechs. They would be plenty safe for a while yet... "We didn't want to know each other at first... Well, don't worry. You're a good 'facer, a good blanket, and good to cuddle. That's enough for me!"

Mewling softly, Dead End allowed Prowl to pin him there. A shriek from Motormaster's room served quite well as notification Breakdown's location... Wildrider was probably with them, but Dead End didn't feel any jealousy, HE wasn't the weirdly insatiable one like Wildrider could be. "Very good to cuddle..."

If only he could blush… Prowl would have been ruby, bright in embarrassment! "So that makes ME what you want? … hmpth, sure if you say so…" Hiding his face the autobot ignored the way his spark constricted in its casing. He wanted to believe… wanted to trust… but a long hidden voice was already peeking up, reminding him of before… they were trying to trick him… just like before! "I… Jazz says my wings get in the way…" Primus when was the last time he'd been this far from control of himself… and then he struggled to regain the organization he'd grown to love.

"Like your wings... they splay all over me... it... makes me feel... safe," Dead End answered.

"Jazz is safe with Soundwave, by the way. You'll be able to visit him eventually, even we don't spend all our time in our gestalt-quarters. But of course, the rest of the base has its own rules..." Drag Strip kissed Prowl lightly, and then grinned, "Look, 'End's going into recharge... Isn't it cute, Pit-cat?"

Mmm? Oh yes, quite cute." Jazz… Jazz was… Soundwave's? oh that made so much sense… Prowl knew all to well that those two would match… they were just too much like opposites as he and Jazz were… and Soundwave had a problem with his voice… but there were worse things that could have happened!

"Go on, go ahead... relax. If 'End's going, it's perfectly safe." Drag Strip didn't admit it, but he was nearly out as well. Well, and so what if Prowl did wander around alone? It didn't matter, and so Drag Strip let himself drop to recharge, arms around the other two mechs.

What they thought he was going to leave? But how… WHY? Prowl was comfortable! He didn't want to leave, nestled under warmth that was so comforting… He was tired, with more then one mech technically in the merge there was no helping it… not while he was at such a low power level anyway. "Hmmm… whatever…"


End file.
